Water's day

Four hour later, I'm coming back to this laptop, when the river is closer to us than winter weather.

Your kayak was over the Arab bridge, I thought that it would be impossible that you'd try to do it, because a fish man threw up cruel threats about our paddle. He was absolutely calmed down when he cooked over it tasty bread, but certainly some seconds later, you was there, on the emerald liquid with that little mermaid. Did it be the reason about our eternal return to a drop which wakes up in the middle of our stressful fight against the normal way?

Our dragons drain off jumping in those landscapes where our mind rested although our body would show our vivacity. It’s not time for memory: our steps are driving by our old actions, eliminated superfluous flats that move us away from ourselves.

Water for thirsty kids, rocking their awakening

Water for farmers, looking at sweaty old hoe

Water for citizens, sliding over their heavy ditches

Water jumps over impudence, blinds the covetous

Kayak flows gently towards mountains and towns

Boat sails winds of our memories which builds

Stone receives thousand of drops, boring through hardness

Laptop patiently conjugates our past to keep the slippery future

Can our wavering glances walk without looking our uncertainties?